


The Fight

by Gypsymoon77



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Emotions, M/M, Relationship Trouble, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 22:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gypsymoon77/pseuds/Gypsymoon77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil stared at the words "call ended" displayed across his phone screen.  He had done it.  He had hung up on Carlos.</p><p>An angsty little piece about Carlos and Cecil's prolonged separation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fight

Cecil stared at the words CALL ENDED displayed across his phone screen. He had done it. He had hung up on Carlos.

A mixture of dread and elation rolled inside his stomach, and he didn't know whether to laugh, to cry, or to just be sick. He tossed the phone down onto the bed and paced for a moment as he fought the urge to pick up the phone and call Carlos back immediately. No, he wouldn't cave. If Carlos cared, _he_ would call Cecil back...but time didn't work quite right here in Night Vale or there in whatever desert world Carlos was in, and sometimes calling right back wasn't an option. Cecil felt another nauseating twist in his gut. He stalked out of their bedroom without a backward glance at the phone he left behind.

He had been so excited that night when his caller ID had popped up showing it was his boyfriend calling. He had been giddy when he had answered, using his deepest, sexiest radio host voice to purr “hello” when he picked up. And it had been so wonderful to hear Carlos' “Hi, Cecil!”. But the thrill hadn't lasted as his boyfriend began to drone on and on about that wonderful desert world he was trapped in. No, he hadn't searched for any old oak doors yet. But he had been back to the lighthouse, and _oh, Cecil, you can't even imagine_....and then all Cecil heard was blah, blah, blah, science, blah, blah, blah.

No, _Cecil, I miss you_. No, _Cecil, I want to be home with you_. No tender words or even thinly veiled suggestive hints that Doug and his soldiers weren't around, so maybe they could....

No, nothing but a long list of all the wonderful and amazing things that Carlos really needed to study. Because that was what scientists do. And Cecil had had enough.

“Geez, Carlos, you must be so busy studying all those really neat things, I won't take up any more of your time, okay?”

There had been a very long pause.

“Cecil?” Carlos finally said uncertainly, but the dam had broken and Cecil let vent all of his grievances.

Carlos didn't care that he was miserable, that despite all the brave words he spoke on the radio, he was a emotional wreck in the privacy of their home. _Their home_. Not that it was really theirs anymore, since Carlos didn't seem at all bothered to try to get back. But he shouldn't be surprised after all, since Carlos' experiments, and his lab, and all his science had always been so much more important than Cecil was. So Cecil was glad that he had found a place that was so much more scientifically interesting than Night Vale, and he hoped Carlos was happy there, since there was nothing important back here.

At this point, Carlos had started yelling back that Cecil wasn't being fair. That of course he missed Cecil and wanted to be home, but he was a scientist and he may never have the chance to study a place like this desert world again. That his work had never been important to Cecil, that he had never tried to understand that this was the sort of thing that Carlos had worked his entire life to achieve.

It had just gotten worse from there until they were just yelling any accusation that they could think of. You're a jerk. You're selfish. You don't really understand me. I don't matter to you.

_You don't want to be with me any more, do you?_

Those had been Cecil's last words before he had ended the call. And to be honest, he had hung up then, not really just because of his self-righteous anger, but because he was afraid of the answer. Afraid that Carlos would suddenly speak in his calm, I'm-a-scientist-so-what-I-am-about-to-say-is-very-logical voice and tell Cecil that he was right, that they shouldn't be together. That he really would rather stay in that desert world than come back to Night Vale, because Night Vale wasn't really his home. _Cecil_ wasn't really his home.

“That's what you get for trusting an outsider,” snarled Cecil to the empty house.

And he stopped. Carlos? _His Carlos_? An outsider?

For a moment, he stood baffled, his brain fighting years of teaching (and re-education) that those outside of Night Vale were not to be trusted. To always turn a blind eye to the darkness around him. _If you see something, say nothing...._

Carlos had changed that. The scientist had stood in front of a room of hostile townspeople from a hostile desert community and he had _smiled_ at them. And it had changed Cecil that day.

Cecil took a deep, calming breath and exhaled. He turned on his heel and marched back to his bedroom. His phone still lay on his...no, _their_...bed; the screen was lit up with the notification that he had a voice message. Cecil let out an eloquent curse in modified Sumerian. Of course his phone hadn't actually bothered to ring this time. He snatched the phone up and quickly hit the play message option.

“I guess sorry isn’t going to cut it, huh?,” came Carlos' soft, sad voice. There was a pause and then the soft whoosh as he let out a sigh. “I still love you, Cecil. Please, Cecil, don't...that is to say....” Then in a voice so soft that Cecil had to strain to hear: “Please still love me.” Then Carlos cleared his throat and continued. “I'll...I'll call again when I can. Bye, Cece”

And then the message ended.

Cecil laid down on top of the comforter, the tears that anger had held back now freely flowing down his cheeks. He reached out and touched Carlos' pillow.

“I do love you, Carlos,” he whispered to the empty space where his boyfriend used to sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I wrote something so angst-ridden, but I did. Please forgive me.


End file.
